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<title>The Gift by joz_stankovich (joz_rose)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961040">The Gift</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/joz_rose/pseuds/joz_stankovich'>joz_stankovich (joz_rose)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Swearing, Threats of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961040</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/joz_rose/pseuds/joz_stankovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Wild Breathless Kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Reader</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While he’d been loath to admit it, something was bothering Jaskier.  Keen to his moods and acutely observant, you knew straight away something wasn’t right.  It wasn’t until you heard Valdo Marx’s boastful voice echo through the tavern’s common room that you knew why.</p><p>The bard was explaining loudly, so that his voice was sure to carry, that he would be the only one worthy of watching perform there that night, before going on to denounce certain other bards, read: Jaskier’s “subpar” voice and lyrical skills, even going so far as to insinuate he was nothing more than a sellout. </p><p>Your anger beginning to simmer you glanced over at Jaskier at the bar, his shoulder tensed, bitterly drowning his frustration in a mug of their strongest mead, and you made up your mind.  Pulling Geralt aside you instructed him to keep Jaskier busy while you slipped away; needing to take care of some important business.</p><p>The witcher merely grunted, yellow eyes following your gaze to the pompous Valdo Marx, making his way toward the privvy, before nodding.</p><p>“Whatever you’re up to, I don’t want to know,” Geralt said dryly.  “Just don’t leave a mess.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” you quipped, snorting softly and throwing him a wicked grin, “there’ll be no mess, except perhaps in ol’ Valdo’s drawers,” you added under your breath, swearing you saw Geralt roll his eyes as he walked away.</p><p>You approached the man in the secluded hallway as he was strutting back toward the main hall; plastering a flirtatious smile on your face and batting your eyelashes at him.  Sure enough that was all it took to catch his attention and the bard stopped, leaning jauntily against the wall in front of you.</p><p>“Well, well, well, aren’t you a little minx,” he remarked, favouring you with his signature self-assured smirk.  “Were you looking for me, sweetheart?” he asked and you forced a vapid giggle, playing along; deliberately eyeing him up and down to set the hook.</p><p>“You could say that,” you purred, taking a step closer and running your hand up the front of his silk doublet.  Your skin crawled at being this close to the arrogant prick, but reminding yourself just who you were doing this for made it all worth it.</p><p>“Aren’t I lucky,” the bard murmured, slipping a finger under your chin and lifting your face.  “You look rather familiar, do I know you from somewhere?”</p><p>While he was distracted you retrieved one of your hidden daggers from your belt and in the blink of an eye the blade was pressed against his throat, just close enough that he could feel the razor sharp edge when he swallowed.</p><p>“What the fu–” his exclamation turned to a startled yelp as you forced him back against the wall.  “Wh-what do you want?” you asked instead, fear flashing in his eyes.</p><p>“I’ve come to ask a little favour of you Valdo,” you said, your grin turning cold.</p><p>“Fuck you,” you spat, wincing as the dagger pricked his skin, drawing blood.  A single red droplet beaded up, rolling down his neck to stain his lacy collar.</p><p>“That’s a shame, I’d hoped you’d be a wee bit more cooperative, else I’ll have to employ a different sort of <em>persuasion</em>.”</p><p>Valdo’s eyes grew wide and you could practically see recognition dawn on him.  “Wait!  I do know you.  You’re the wench that travels with that second rate wastrel, <em>Jaskier</em>.”  </p><p>A strangled sound left his throat as you drew another dagger, this time positioning it near his groin.  </p><p>“Take care what you say Marx, I would hate for my hand to slip and… oopsie, you know?” you purred, enjoying yourself perhaps just a little too much.</p><p>“Alright, alright!” Valdo conceded, eyes bulging as he tried to catch sight of the blade at his throat.  “What do you want from me?”</p><p>“Don’t worry, it’s simple really,” you said, leaning in to whisper your demands in his ear.</p><p>——</p><p>As you returned to your seat at the bar, Jaskier was still clearly brooding, salting at Geralt who gave a sigh of relief at your presence.  Cocking an eyebrow, the witcher glanced at you, clearly trying to read from your expression how your “business” had gone.</p><p>Flashing a grin back at him you grabbed Jaskier’s mug out from under him as he was reaching for it and brought it to your lips, despite his spluttered protest.</p><p>“It’s all taken care of,” you said, answering his unspoken question and catching Jaskier’s attention, who looked from you to Geralt in confusion.</p><p>“What are you two talking about?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Geralt merely grunted as you smiled.</p><p>“You’ll see.”  </p><p>As you were speaking Valdo Marx climbed to the small raised stage and you turned your eyes to him, leveling him with a meaningful look and purposefully reaching for your dagger.  “Ah, this should be interesting,” you murmured, but Jaskier’s expression soured.</p><p>“Actually [Y/N], Geralt, I’ve changed my mind.  I want to leave.”</p><p>“Jask wait,” you exclaimed, grabbing his hand, but Geralt was quicker, snatching him by the scruff of his collar and pulling him back to his seat.</p><p>“Wha– hey!  Alright, alright!” he gave in, flashing you a curious glance before turning his attention back to Valdo, who was clearly fidgeting with the collar of his doublet, which you knew was hiding the nick from your dagger.</p><p>“Ahem.  I, Valdo Marx, the renowned troubador from Cidaris, have an… announcement to make,” he said loudly, though he looked like he wanted to be sick.  “I will not be performing here tonight as previously stated, due to some… unforeseen circumstances.”  The glare he shot you was unmistakable and you smirked back smugly; Jaskier perking up with interest.</p><p>Valdo sighed heavily – it was obvious this next part was about to physically pain him to say.  “I must inform you, good people that…” he paused to nervously wet his lips, “tales of my prodigious skill are grossly over-exaggerated and that my rival and fellow bard, whom I will shortly be turning to stage over to, Jaskier de Lettenhove, is unequivocally more talented than I in every way,” he ground out through clenched teeth.  </p><p>Once he’d finished you smiled sweetly at him, nodding once and letting your hand fall to your side.  The incredulous delighted laugh that burst from Jaskier’s lips as Valdo Marx sulked away was like music to your ears.</p><p>Before you knew what was happening Jaskier had pulled you into his arms and was kissing you, not caring who saw.  Grinning against his insistent lips, you snaked your arms around his waist and tilted your head, opening your mouth for him to explore with his tongue; the sweetness of the mead he’d been nursing earlier permeating your senses, and he eagerly swallowed the soft moan that bubbled up from your throat.</p><p>When he finally pulled back to catch his breath you collapsed against his chest, gasping for air as well.</p><p>“I don’t know - how you - managed to get him to do that, [Y/N],” he exclaimed breathlessly, his blue eyes alight, “but that was quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.  Gods, I love you.”</p><p>Dissolving into laughter, you caught his face between your hands and pressed another kiss to his swollen lips.</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p>
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